


At the Other end of the Wishing well

by LadyHallen



Series: Tumblr HP [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Generally pissed off Harry, Master of Death Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6736462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHallen/pseuds/LadyHallen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gets used to being pulled to and fro, but that doesn't mean he likes it.</p><p>Or...</p><p>Where people keep summoning Harry and he's just so done with their shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Other end of the Wishing well

When the area around him flares in a familiar color, Harry just sighs.

“Seriously?” he says, looking up. He doesn’t bother to be too alarmed that he is no longer in his living room.

The scene around him changes and he tucks his trashy paperback into his pocket firmly.

“Yeah?” he asks who is obviously his summoner, black all and hands dripping with blood. It’s such a cliché image that he wants to roll his eyes. He doesn’t, if only because Aunt Petunia taught him better manners than that, when she wasn’t screeching at him for existing.

“You, who is Death incarnate! I abjure thee to destroy this world! Destroy it, for it has destroyed mine!” the obviously delusional summoner screams.

Harry wants to gape. His summoner is a lunatic. How did he scramble enough brain cells to manage it? (And who uses the word ‘abjure’ these days anyway?)

“Err, just to clarify,” Harry says, feeling a bit unnerved. “You want me to burn down the planet?”

Emphatic, vigorous nodding.

“Burn to the core, with you in it?” he points out.

Quick nods, a pause, and then, “No, no. Wait till I leave the planet.”

Ah, one of those impulsive ones then.

“I’ll give you ten minutes,” Harry concedes, utterly resigned to this sort of thing. “And then I’ll start.”

The summoner blanches, and then scrambles to gather his belongings. Harry nabs an ancient, archaic book and easily finds where he got the runes from. The picture in it makes him pause.

“ _Death or it’s master_ ,” Harry reads out loud with increasing dismay. “ _Is the most powerful being in this universe, or perhaps in several multiverses. To summon him requires immense power. No person has survived his summoning._ ”

It’s a picture of him, carrying a staff and looking like he’d been dropped into one too many meetings without coffee.

Why in Merlin’s name would he be carrying a staff? And who made this book anyway? His first few summoners were people who did it by accident.

A quick look to the back has him groaning.

G.W.Easley.

G. _Weasley_.

 _George Weasley_.

Merlin fucking _dammit_.

“That complete arse,” Harry swears.

He checks that the summoner is off-planet, and then swipes downward, making the molten core overheat and destroying layers and layers of dirt. Within two blinks, the planet is a magma. It’s not a complete destruction, but there are worst things.

He sighs again, checks that he hasn’t dropped anything, and then reverses the summoning. He drops back to his armchair and restrains the impulse to just chuck the entire book into the fire.

The first few times he got summoned in Death’s stead was an accident. It seems that this one is deliberate.

It would be a difficult thing to restrain the impulse to simply hit him in the head with the book, but strangling him is sounding better and better.

(x)

The next time he gets summoned, Harry is drinking an espresso and almost late for work.

When a circle of light surrounds him, it takes supreme effort not to throw a tantrum.

“Get on with it!” he snarls to the woman who’s just opening her mouth.

“Uhm, be my companion as we rule this galaxy?” she asks, completely cowed by the show of temper.

Harry wants to toss the steaming hot espresso in her face just to see if the lines there were painted on or were natural. Mostly, though, he just wants to stop curbing his impulses and goes with things. Like the urge to slap her.

What part of ‘ _get on with it_ ’ did people not understand?

“Rejected,” he says flatly. “Next.”

She looks stunned. “I need to rule this galaxy! I cannot do so without someone to stand by my side and bring the people to their knees!”

Ah, sexist society then.

“I’ll give you godlike powers,” he says. “The speed of a mountain lion and the strength of ten men.”

When she nods, he snaps his fingers and reverses the summoning before she can ask for anything else.

He’s still late for work though.

Fucking summoners.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also available at [tumblr](http://ladyhallen.tumblr.com) for any worldbuilding questions and prompts.


End file.
